


Jeepers, Creeper!

by CrabbyMaiden



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Alter Egos, BANG FIC, DCU Big Bang 2018, F/M, One-Sided Attraction, The Creeper Being Creepy, idk what this is, it's a mess, minor stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 17:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16858249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrabbyMaiden/pseuds/CrabbyMaiden
Summary: Ava thought it would be fine to make a late night grocery run after work but she should have known better. Everybody and their mother knew that the strangest things happened in Gotham after dark and now one very determined Creeper had her in his sights. He means well, but he comes off a bit too... Creepy.2018 DCU Mini-Bang FicBeta'd by: LuciferxDamien





	Jeepers, Creeper!

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the 2018 DCU Big Bang! 
> 
> I was hoping to make something the was a bit of a dark comedy, but that may have fallen flat. I have a hard time writing anything that isn't fluff, so it's a bit of a mess, but I think it turned out alright-ish!
> 
> Enjoy~

It was a perfectly average night in Gotham.

 

The Creeper lunged upward, grabbing the street lamp above him to swing himself onto the perch, balancing on the narrow fixture in a crouch. Below him, a variety of people shrieked and scattered in all directions, though he didn't pay them much mind as he surveyed the area. The street was dirty, grungy and - with his arrival - nearly abandoned aside from one old man at the end of the street moseying along with a walker.

 

"The streets of Gotham are quiet this looonely night as one man- no, one _creep_ prowls the streets!" Leaning forward, he launched himself to a different pole to get a better look at his surroundings. "A creep... For _justice_!"

 

The old man with the walker shook his head, hollering up at him, "Well, creep _quieter_."

 

"Hm," The Creeper shrugged, though he was still grinning as he made another leap, this time onto the rooftop of the nearby apartment complex, "tough crowd."

 

A perfectly average night in Gotham indeed, but it didn't deter the cackling vigilante from scanning the streets for mayhem. Trouble was sure to find its way into the dark, dastardly and determined city! And it was up to _him_ to... Well, perhaps not save the day, but certainly give it a nudge in the right direction. Maybe.

 

Staring down into the streets below, The Creeper scanned the area for wrongdoings before leaping onto the next building to continue the process. "Can The Creeper save Gotham from the nefarious group of criminals running the streets? Can he unravel the mystery of-" 

 

The sound of a car turning onto a street somewhere behind him cut off his train of thought and he wasted no time in dashing over to investigate: he was mildly disappointed when it was just a dinged up, blue sedan pulling up to an apartment complex and backing into a space. He was about to move along, quickly losing interest in the vehicle when he caught a glimpse of the driver. 

 

The profile of her face in the window made him double take, ogling her as she leaned back in the seat and tugged her long, auburn hair into a messy ponytail. He whistled appreciatively, taking in the soft features of her tired expression and the delicate curve of her neck: she were certainly a nice looking woman and it completely derailed him from what he had set out to do tonight. The criminals could walk themselves to jail: he _had_  to go down and talk to her to swap numbers- _no_! To swap spit!

 

"Breaking news: Creeper spots woman! Romance to ensue," he sighed dreamily, draping himself over the ledge and propping his head up in his palm. He waited a moment, as though listening to someone speak and furrowing his brow and muttering, "Hm, no? We'll work on that title."

 

She partially opened the door despite her car still running, revealing her to be dressed in a simple blouse and pair of slacks - nothing too fancy, but it was apparent that she dressed nicely for her work. With the door open, he could see that there was a pile of grocery bags in the seat behind her, signaling that she had most likely gone to the store after getting off work and he briefly thought about offering to help carry them inside before the idea was lost in the chaos of his mind. The Creeper satisfied his curiosity (and boredom) by watching her dig in the large black purse a few moments and had to briefly fight off the urge to catcall, continuing to mumble to himself instead.

 

"No, old chap. A lady in this neighborhood would clock you in a heartbeat," he ducked out of sight and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "We'll start with an embrace- no no, I should introduce myself first. Or we can skip straight to-"

 

A car door slammed and he heard the very distinct sound of a woman shrieking as a man hollered a quick "shut up!" at her. Startled by the sudden cacophony of noise, The Creeper shot back up, blinking owlishly as a man he hadn't noticed before was sitting in the passenger seat of the car with a knife pressed to the woman's throat as he was barking orders at her. She were clearly panicking and without thinking, she stomped on the gas, throwing both of them onto the dashboard briefly before being slammed back again when the car smashed into the brick wall behind it. Groceries had flown up into the front seats, pelting both of them and dumping out onto the ground.

 

Dazed but still in "Oh My God" mode, she threw the car into drive and the vehicle shot forward, plowing through a fire hydrant and barreling into the building across the street: the hood folded like an accordion and the area was immediately doused in a violent spray of water. A trail of broken car pieces and groceries littered the street and everything went still inside the now thoroughly trashed vehicle.

 

There was a beat of silence before his brain caught up with what happened, then he cleared his throat, speaking into a non-existent microphone that he mimed holding. "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we now have a damsel in distress! More details coming your way at eight: for now, a message from our _sponsors_!"

 

On the tail end of his sentence, he threw himself over the edge of the building and deftly swung himself towards the car using a light pole to propel himself forward. Another leap had him landing heavily on the cab of the car, his boots forming imprints in the already crumpled roof. Now closer, he could hear the man inside swearing loudly and cackling just as boisterously, The Creeper dug his fingers into the metal and ripped it back.

 

"Never fear-" he twisted and reached inside, yanking the man through the hole so that they were face to face. "The _Creeper_  is here!"

 

The man, wearing a tacky ski mask that was on completely crooked and an all black outfit, let out a shriek as he flailed in an attempt to get away from the man dressed in a little more than a green speedo and a red boa. "Whoa, this wasn't worth it!"

 

Tapping his chin with a wide grin plastered on his face, The Creeper stood, dragging the man completely through and held him in the air. "It wasn't? You don't think so?" Frantic head shaking was his answer. "Pity, but if it's any consolation, you were a _wonderful_  wingman. Really gave me an excuse to break the ice!"

 

"What-"

 

"Now, now. Really, you were helpful, but if you wouldn't mind _buzzing_ off..."

 

Tossing his arm back, he turned towards the nearby dumpsters and threw the man like a football, bursting into a fit of laughter when he landed perfectly in the trash. The woman, on the other hand, fell out of her door, gasping and holding a hand to her bleeding forehead while she stared up at the weirdo laughing maniacally on top of the car. It was clear that she didn't have a clue as to what just happened - how could she? She went from being in the process of being mugged, to being in a wreck and now this? Now _this_?

 

"And he scores!" The Creeper crowed victoriously, fist pumping the air. "But will he score in _love_?" 

 

Even without a head injury, a sane person would be thoroughly confused and she was at a complete loss as to what to do.

 

She quietly began scooting back, not caring that she was now dragging herself through a growing puddle of water before she shakily used the nearest street sign to pull herself upright. Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, The Creeper whipped around to face her, grinning like a maniac that had just been told Christmas was coming early and he was getting the first slice of the holiday ham. She clung to the "No Parking" sign like it would save her from whatever horrible fate awaited her and trembled fearfully as she tried to gather her bearings.

 

"Well _helloooo_ , gorgeous," he purred, crouching like a predator about to lunge at their prey. "Nice night, isn't it?"

 

"No. It's not," she snapped without thinking, wincing when blood dripped in her eye. "W-who are-"

 

"You might be asking yourself who I am!" The Creeper interrupted, hopping off the car and scooping up her now waterlogged purse. "The answer to that, sweetums, is..." He hunched forward, arching his fingers into talons and sending her a strange version of bedroom eyes. "Michael Phelps with jaundice!"

 

Bewildered, she looked at his face, then at the speedo as though she was trying to make the connection between the professional swimmer and the nutjob in front of her. Ignoring her frightened looks, he dug in her purse until he came across a wallet and flipped it open to peer at the driver's license inside. _Ava Richmond, age 34. Lives on Sexy Lane._

 

"Avaaaa," he crooned and her stomach dropped, bright brown eyes widening in terror. "Cute name for a cute lady."

 

Cackling, he dropped to all fours and walked towards "Ava" like a wolf, making her quickly backpedal until she tripped over the curb and fell flat on her ass. The moment she fell, he was on her in seconds, sniffing at her like he was some sort of dog investigating a new treat, stopping at the stream of blood oozing from the gash on her forehead. She plastered herself against the ground, terrified of what he might do and he dumped her purse in her lap before grabbing both sides of her face, eliciting a squeak from the poor woman.

 

"Relaaax. I'm a professional."

 

Then he licked her forehead, slowly drawing his tongue over the large cut.

 

On instinct, her hand shot up and karate chopped the side of his face, "Get off me, creep!!" 

 

The Creeper reeled back, looking down at her like a kicked puppy that had done no wrong, "Pardon?"

 

"I said _get off_!"

 

Unexpectedly, Ava kicked out, the heel of her foot catching him just right between the legs and he immediately dropped to the side with a wheeze of surprise. Scrambling to her feet and clutching her purse, she took off down the nearest alleyway with an awkward sway to her movements. Meanwhile, The Creeper rolled up onto his knees, one hand still cupping his groin as he huffed out a breathless laugh, staring after her as she stumbled away.

 

It took him a moment, but he managed to stand and knocked his knuckles against the athletic cup nestled in his... Costume. "Works every time." Readjusting himself, he looked around the chaotic scene surrounding him, grinning fondly and he sighed, "Oh, I do love it when they play hard to get."

 

Brushing himself off, The Creeper leaped and clambered up the nearest fire escape, following Ava at a languid pace. He had all night to play this game and _golly_ , it was quite a night so far, but the streets were no place for a fair lady to wander: it was up to _him_  to be sure she made it home safe and sound!

 

**XxX**

 

"Do you think he crashed the car on purpose?" 

 

Robin had asked this cautiously, peering up at Batman as though he expected the masked man to suddenly explode into a furious rampage. The street corner of Main and Widow was already a mess, with a light blue sedan that had plowed through a fire hydrant and was now smashed in a wall and odd bits of books and groceries scattered about. Add in half a dozen police officers carelessly loafing about on their cars while the busted hydrant spewed water in all directions as they waited for the fire department to arrive to shut it off and you had a recipe for one very pissed off vigilante.

 

Not that he blamed him: neither of them wanted to be crouching on a damp rooftop, getting sprayed in the face with a geyser of water tonight. They had plans elsewhere that involved greasy burgers followed by ice cream, but a flash of light in the sky called them to where they lurked now. At first they had been annoyed they were called out just for a car crash - surely the police were capable of handling something so _simple_ , however they quickly caught on that this was the handiwork of one all-too familiar, green haired and laughing troublemaker...

 

The Creeper.

 

It was a headache and a half, to say the least: they _almost_ preferred to deal with The Joker, but Jack Ryder's alter ego was less likely to intentionally murder people. While The Creeper wasn't necessarily a bad guy, he just had a habit of chasing women and wrecking cars like a typical... Creep. One that neither one of them really wanted to deal with after last time, to say the least and Robin could really only scratch his head when it came to the man's... Abstract way of showing affection towards women.

 

"I doubt it," Batman said gruffly, peering through the binoculars in his hands to better observe the scene below before handing them over to Robin. "Look at the roof panel on the car."

 

Stretching his legs, he adjusted his perch on the ledge of the building and looked down at the twisted hood, then the roof: it looked like it had been peeled back on the passenger side like a can of sardines, just enough for someone to get inside.

 

"Looks like he was trying to get to someone," he muttered and his mentor gestured.

 

"There's a woman's shawl in the driver's seat and a switchblade in the passenger's." Robin made a sound of acknowledgement as he looked for the mentioned items. "It's likely he stumbled across a robbery of some sorts and it got... Chaotic."

 

"I'd say. Where do you think he left the perp?"

 

Batman stood and moved to get a better angle, seemingly zeroing in on something below. "We should be more concerned about the woman that had been driving. If he chases her the way he chased Harley Quinn, then we should find her asap."

 

Robin cocked his head and followed his gaze: a grumpy looking old man with a walker was sitting on the front step of his apartment building, watching the scene with a frown and a shake of his head.

 

Simultaneously, they both reached for their belts to grab their grapple guns.

 

"Reckon he's a witness?"

 

"An old man sitting outside at this time of night in _this_  neighborhood? He definitely knows something."

 

**XxX**

 

Ava stumbled, tripping over her own feet and falling against a pair of metal trash bins that clanged noisily when she used them to steady her balance. There was a strange, echoing laughter somewhere above and occasionally when she looked up, she could see a leering grin peering down at her from the rooftops, turning her blood to ice. Her head was still reeling from everything that had happened in such a short amount of time and the pounding headache accompanied by a trickle of blood dripping down her face certainly didn't help matters much.

 

"I'm just a librarian," she croaked to herself, shakily pushing herself to continue onward. "Nothing happens to librarians." 

 

Yet here she was, concussed from wrecking her car in her wild attempt to avoid being robbed and on the run from some wacko claiming to be Michael Phelps that could climb and jump on buildings like some sort of flea-man. Only in Gotham would that be a sentence that someone might actually believe: _if_  she wasn't thrown in Arkham first.

 

"The wild librarian walks bravely into the alley, unaware she is being stalked by a vicious creep," the man narrated from above, his voice deepened for dramatic effect. "Will The Creeper swallow his prey whole? Will poor Ava ever make it out of this place alive? Find out tomorrow at five!"

 

"Oh my God this man is insane," she whispered to herself, quickening her pace as she dug frantically in her almost-forgotten purse for something, _anything_  that might be useful.

 

She grasped a small cylinder in her hand and took a deep breath, wracking her brain for the location of the police station closest to where she was now. If she recalled correctly, there was one just a few blocks over and though she knew that the officers in her area were typically pretty scummy, she'd prefer to take her chances with them than to let this psychopath gut and leave her body for the rats in a disgusting back alley. Holding the straps of her purse tightly in her fist, she readied herself to swing it like a weapon if needed and tried to ignore the nonsensical chatter above her- _was he humming the Pink Panther theme?!_

 

Ava glanced down at the cylinder, relief washing over her when she saw it was the can of pepper spray her mother had mailed her years ago when she first moved to this part of Gotham. She never thought she'd actually need to use it and had just thrown it in the bottom of her purse, leaving it there until she decided to swap to a different bag and repeated the process all over again. 

 

Tossing a quick peek over her shoulder when she realized the man had fallen silent, Ava tried not to let herself panic and strained to listen to her surroundings. The scurrying of rats among the garbage. Sirens in the distance. A couple shouting at each other in a nearby apartment. Faint, yet all-too-close gunshots. The noise was almost soothing to hear, like a steady heartbeat of the restless city: it was something she had heard all her life and despite the underlying horribleness of it all, she wouldn't trade it for the world.

 

Even though it lulled her into a false sense of security.

 

The Creeper stealthily dropped to the ground behind her, swaying in tune with her movements to stay in her blind spot as her head darted to and fro to search for signs of him. It was almost endearing, how hard she was trying to stay on guard while ignoring the small wound on her head and he barely kept himself from smoothing his hands down her neck, her shoulders, her arms... Even _he_  knew that it would set her off in a way that would be counterproductive to his interests and he settled for a simple tap on her shoulder, relishing the way she whipped around so fast, she nearly toppled over backwards.

 

He grasped her biceps to steady her balance and leaned in with what he thought was a charming grin. "Helloooo, gorgeous. Didja miss me-" 

 

Ava's hand shot up, pressing down on the can of spray so hard she thought the button might snap, but a spray of red miraculously shot out in a cloud of angry capsaicin. Having been in the process of talking, The Creeper inhaled a good amount and burst into a fit of coughing, but she continued to spray it directly into his face until he was finally forced to let go of her in favor of clutching his face.

 

He stumbled backwards, clawing at his eyes as he tossed his head about while hollering, "My eyes! _My eyes_! My beautiful, starry eyes!" 

 

She cautiously backed away from the thrashing man, pepper spray still at the ready, but she felt far more safe now that he was dropping to the ground to roll about dramatically: she _definitely_ owed her mother a debt of gratitude the next time she saw her.

 

"Oh betrayal!" The Creeper bemoaned, rolling onto all fours to press his face into the cool pavement. "What an awful twist: a _heated_  rejection from our heroine! How can our underdog recover from this!?"

 

"What the fu-"

 

Suddenly, The Creeper's hand shot straight into the air to make a cutting motion. "Cut to commercial!"

 

The abrupt movement and jarring stop to the pained yelling startled Ava. "What-"

 

"Listen. Toots," he began, propping his head up on the palm of his hand as he peered up at her with a face streaked in red-orange. "We gotta be kid friendly to keep this rated a hard T at worst. Take it easy on the swearing."

 

Ava gaped, watching in horror as he stood up and began to wipe the gunk off his face while a deep, rumbling laugh built up in his chest and echoed in the cramped alley: completely unaffected by something that should still have him sobbing on the ground. "I- how... You... W-what?"

 

"How? Well that's a long story, sweetums, and not very appropriate for the first date either!" Brushing dirt off his chest and straightening his boa, The Creeper leaned towards her and made a pitiful, puppy-eyed expression. "If you _must_  know... I was a poor lonely boy; gassed and dropped into a vat of toxic chemicals." He smoothed his hair back and cackled, "But it did _wonders_  for my skin!" 

 

"Y-you're crazy!"

 

He hummed dreamily, nodding his head in agreement. "I know, and you're _cute_. Now where were we-" A soggy and heavy purse slammed into the side of his head, the force of the blow knocking him back to the ground. "Okay! Okay. I sorta deserved that-" Noticing she was about to hit him again, he held his arms above his head defensively. "Hey! No need to keep hitting on me!" 

 

"Stop following me like a creep!"

 

"I am a creep! But I'm also a _hero_ , thank you very much." Cautiously, he stuck his hand out for her to shake, though he fully expected her to whack him again. "The name's _The Creeper_ : member of the fancy-pants superhero club and honorary member of the Justice League."

 

She looked extremely doubtful and didn't so much as spare his offered hand a glance.

 

"No dice? Well, couldn't hurt to try." He looked around and scratched at his neck absently. "We have a tough one folks: this may be the one that our hero can't woo!"

 

" _Who_  are you talking to?" Ava snapped, purse raised in case he made any sudden movements.

 

"The ghosts! The spirits! Ohhhh how they haunt me!" He cried out and hopped to his feet with an unnatural amount of ease that made her squawk fearfully, but he simply chortled and messed up her hair. "Relax, lady. I don't bite- _much_." 

 

The Creeper playfully snapped his teeth at her and ducked back when she swung at him with all her might. Not expecting him to dodge, she yelped as the weight of her swing knocked her off balance and her feet slid out from underneath her body: sending her crashing to the ground faster than the strange and enhanced man could react. There was a soft " ** _smack_** "as her head hit the pavement and he stared down at her stupidly, unsure how to react to the weak moan that escaped her lips.

 

After a moment, he knelt down beside her, picking her arm up and letting it fall back to the ground. "Falling for me already, eh?" Tutting, he picked up her purse, then scooped Ava up off the ground and slung her over his shoulder. "Up you get... Sweetums, the back alleys of Gotham is no place for a little lady to take a nap!"

 

He pat the back of her thighs to be sure he had a good grip on her and turned to walk away when his boot kicked a small can on the ground, drawing his attention to the can of pepper spray Ava had doused him with. His eyes lit up and he bent down to pick it up in his free hand, pointing the nozzle towards himself to squirt a copious amount into his mouth before throwing it into a nearby garbage can.

 

" _Whew_! Spicy!" he wiped his forehead and placed his hand on his hips. "Well, this was a no-fun way to end the night, but at least I got a decent snack out of it. Seven-outta-ten!"

 

Now all he needed to do was find out what he was going to do with her. Decisions, decisions...

 

Struck with an epiphany, The Creeper laughed boisterously and adjusted his grip on Ava so he could lunge up onto the closest fire escape to get to the rooftops. "Tonight's story is sponsored by: the  _Gotham Medical Center_! Keeping yoooou well because our specialty is _yoooou_!"   

 

**XxX**

 

"Yeah I saw it," the old man gruffly said while lighting a cigarette. "Some lunatic from Arkham, no doubt. Poor Ava, that girl has had some rotten luck since moving here, but she's a sweet kid. If that creep hadn't come along when he did, who knows what that man was going to do to her."

 

Batman and Robin exchanged glances and the former prompted the elderly man to continue. "Where is the man now?"

 

"In the trash where he belongs!" A jerk of the thumb towards the nearby dumpsters had Robin dashing over to peer inside and confirming that there was indeed a man inside, unconscious on top a pile of rotting scraps of food.

 

"He does look like _garbage,_ Batman!" Robin quipped, earning little more than a small grunt at the joke. "Oh c'mon, that was a good one."

 

Batman focused on the old man again and quirked a brow. "You could have called the cops: why didn't you?"

 

"It was taken care of," he snapped and the caped crusader reluctantly let it drop: these neighborhoods preferred to keep to themselves and it was likely that the only reason authorities were called at all was to shut of the busted hydrant. "Gotta admit though, he had a strange way of helping, but I suppose there's no sense in complaining since what's done is done. I think the creep was singing the jingle for Gotham Medical when he ran off with her."

 

"Ran off with her?" 

 

"Mhm. Looked like she was out, but I saw him on that roof over there," he puffed on his cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke at Batman, gesturing towards the building next to his own. "And it looked like he was headed towards the hospital. I reckoned that's where he took her." 

 

 "A strange man took your neighbor away and you " _reckon_ " he took her to the hospital." 

 

"Sounds right."

 

Frowning and resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, Batman silently turned away from the old man and joined Robin by the dumpster, who scowled at the old man. "How come some people just don't seem to care about what's going on around them?"

 

"It's hard to not feel apathetic when it's something you're surrounded by this every day." Reaching into the dumpster, he grabbed the mugger and hauled him out. "Let's get this man to the police, then we'll see if Ava Richmond is in Gotham Medical."

 

"Why? He's already _trashed._ "

 

" _Robin_."

 

XxX

 

The last thing Ava expected to wake up to was a dark hospital room with an IV in her arm and neat, little stitches lining her forehead. She expected a nasty basement, the trunk of a car, to see a _creep_  panting over her: all of the horrible things you'd expect to happen to someone that gets caught in a dark, disgusting alleyway. Instead, her head throbbed painfully and her mind reeled as it tried to process just how on earth she had gotten here: the last thing she remembered was falling face first into the pavement and she doubted the jerk that was harassing her had suddenly decided to call an ambulance. 

 

She sat up sightly, swallowing around the dry lump in her throat as she looked around the small and sparse room, nearly overlooking the man slumped uncomfortably in a chair beside the wall. Briefly, panic overtook her and her hands darted around, feeling for something she could use as a weapon, but after a moment she realized that it wasn't the yellow-skinned man from before. It was actually safe to say that she didn't recognize this man at all and all she could do was stare at him, befuddled and wondering why he was in her hospital room.

 

Instead of wild, green hair and sickly yellow skin, the man had black hair and his skin was a healthy bronze color: not to mention the fact he was dressed in a plain, grey suit and not the colorful costume of the lunatic from before. She was certainly still tense that there was a stranger in her room, but she'd gladly take this random stranger over _him_.

 

Ava cleared her throat and cautiously called out, "H-hello?"

 

He jolted, having not quite fallen asleep and he looked at her with wide blue eyes. "Oh, thank goodness. You're awake! I was starting to worry you wouldn't wake before they kicked me out."

 

"Um... Okay...?" Ava scowled, narrowing her eyes at him. "Who are you, anyways?" 

 

The man smiled, not unlike the cat that ate the canary and he offered to get her a glass of water instead of answering - to which she reluctantly agreed. "You gave me quite a scare, you know. I thought I stumbled across a murder scene."

 

She took the proffered cup and took a strong sip of it. "What do you mean?"

 

He returned to his seat, straightening his tie in the process. "I saw a man leaning over an unconscious and bleeding woman in an alley. It was either murder or..." He trailed off, letting the unspoken word hang in the air before continuing. "I must've scared him because he took off the moment he noticed me and I brought you here."

 

"Oh... Well... Thanks, I guess," she said quietly, the events of the night weighing heavily on her mind and the echo of unsettling laughter in her memories made her shiver. 

 

"Do you know who it was?" She shrugged her shoulders at his question and he nodded sympathetically. "Well, that's alright. I'm sure the police will take him into custody soon."

 

Ava scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I'd have better luck catching the guy myself."

 

The man chuckled, then held out his hand for her to shake. "The name's Jack Ryder: host of a show called _"You Are Wrong!"_  and I was wondering if you'd like to get together to answer some questions sometime." She cast him a disdainful look. "When you're feeling better, of course."

 

Shuffling her cup of water onto the bedside table, she took his hand and begrudgingly shook it. "Ava Richmond. I'm not really interested in being on TV."

 

"That's quite alright, I'm satisfied with just a few questions for a special I'm planning to host about the eccentric criminals of Gotham and how it affects residents."

 

She sighed, rubbing her temples, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt, just... Not right now. This is a lot to take in and I'd really rather be alone." 

 

"Of course, I understand," Jack dug in his pocket and pulled out a pad of paper with a pen. "Could I get your number? I can call you in a week or two to check up on you and if you're feeling good about this, we'll make some plans to meet somewhere you're comfortable." 

 

She recited her number, listening to him scribbling it down and when he finished, he passed her a business card. "Feel free to contact me anytime."

 

Ava nodded and thanked him again, so he took that as his cue to stand up and leave, bidding her a good night before stepping out into the hall. Jack had barely made it a few steps down the deserted hall before Batman stepped out of the shadows of a nearby room, looming over him in what he assumed was supposed to be an intimidating pose. Behind him, Robin peered through the window of the room he just left to check on the resident, but he took a deep breath to keep his cool.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

"What are you doing, Ryder?" the caped crusader questioned lowly, suspicious, but not aggressive. 

 

The TV host shrugged his shoulders easily and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Not sure I know what you mean."

 

Batman narrowed his eyes, but it was Robin that spoke, "You're... Uh, not _creeping_  on this lady like you did Quinn, are you?" 

 

Jack turned and ruffled the kid's hair, "Not at all, kid. Just making sure I didn't hurt her, but I do have an early show to do tomorrow so..." He motioned down the hall. "I'll be on my way."

 

"Ryder," the masked man was exceptionally neutral as he said, "Don't make this a problem. I don't want to have to put you in Arkham if you can't control yourself."

 

He grumbled, "Well I thought I had plenty of control tonight."

 

"Mostly," Batman agreed, stepping aside to let him through. "Let's keep it that way." 

 

"Alright, alright! Message received, big guy. I'll stay on my best behavior." 

 

Jack moved past the caped duo, humming to himself lightly as they disappeared into the shadows as a pair of nurses turned down the hall to start their nightly rounds. He didn't mind the questioning: it was fair, considering the amount of torment he has put the clown-girl through during his _debut_  as The Creeper and he took it as the stoic vigilante's way of caring in his own weird way. It didn't really matter to him because he had done what he had originally set out to do.

 

His cheerful humming morphed into a airy whistle as he patted the note pad with Ava's cellphone number that resided in his pocket. 

 

It wasn't quite the hero's kiss he had in mind, but it was certainly a start in the right direction.

 

Exiting the hospital, Jack Ryder breathed in the cool, Gotham air as he walked leisurely to the parking garage, his fingers already reaching into the sleeve of his suit to peel of a thin, cotton patch containing an anti-toxin that kept his alter ego at bay. The removal of the patch could be felt almost instantly as he began to chuckle, running his hand through his greening hair and allowing a fit of laughter to consume him even as his skin yellowed and his grin stretched an unnatural amount. 

 

A perfectly average night in Gotham indeed.


End file.
